


Like a rainbow in the dark

by shesellssanctuary



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Strained Friendships, Strained Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21571036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesellssanctuary/pseuds/shesellssanctuary
Summary: How can she go back there after leaving the way she did? How can things ever be the same?Time is running out, for her, for them. For everyone.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Original Female Character(s), Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Tina "Frost" Lin Tsang, Oliver "Lion" Flament/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Like a rainbow in the dark

It was several sharp raps on her apartment door that startled her back to wakefulness; four days without sleep had taken their toll and she was getting careless, letting herself be vulnerable. 

The armchair placed facing the door creaked slightly as she stood and she winced at the sound as she grabbed her pistol from her hip holster and silently made her way to the opposite end of the hall. The knocking started again, this time heavier, and as she grew near she heard hushed voices. Thank god she’d had the foresight to throw the wall cabinet against the door and put the safety chain on-it wouldn’t stop them but it would give her precious few seconds to steel herself against the onslaught. She clicked the lock over and quickly retreated before announcing to her visitors to enter. 

“And how the fuck do we know the doors not rigged? Open up” she knew that voice anywhere, even hidden behind a poor excuse for an american accent. 

“Because, Baker, I’m not a pussy and you should know better than anyone that when death comes for me I shall greet them like old friends.”

She could feel some of the tension leave her body, instead replaced by an uneasiness. If Mike was here Harry had told him where to find her or, even worse, Harry had come with him. Shoving the furniture out the way she cracked the door ajar to reveal two figures. Harry had indeed accompanied Mike on this little excursion.

After releasing the safety chain she allowed the two to step inside before locking and barricading the door once more and ushering them down the hall to the windowless kitchenette; she didn't dare set foot in her front room. Reholstering her pistol she set the kettle to boil and pulled out three cups, one coffee and two teas, before slumping against the kitchen counter, exhaustion fully taking hold after the sudden adrenaline rush had worn off. 

Eyes closed and pinching the bridge of her nose she broke the silence, “I’ve seen the news, I recognise those serial numbers and I’ve seen attacks like this before”

“Then you know why we’re here then,” glancing over her shoulder she saw Mike evaluating her. She hadn’t slept in four days, hadn’t eaten in almost a week, and hadn’t showered since long before any of this started. She stank, was starving and looked like she was going to pass out any minute. He caught her gaze, pleading for him not to say anything, for him to look away. She would be ashamed to let _any_ of her former mentors see her like this, but Mike was more like a father and she couldn’t bare the look on his face; a mixture of disgust and grief. 

Harry would have been content to watch the silent exchange continue had it not been for her slowly beginning to slide down the cupboard to the floor. They both immediately dashed forward to grab her and sit her on the nearest chair as she began to weep.

“I can’t do this Harry. They’re coming for me.”  
It was silent again, save for her sobs and the whistling crescendo of the kettle which Mike promptly removed from the hob and dispensed into the cups. Harry reached out to her, clasping one of her hands in his and giving a squeeze. It was clear as day that she was suffering all her emotions years past at once. Terror and love and hate and friendship ravaging her already broken mind and body. Mike gave her a gentle nudge and urged the now made cup of tea into her hands, splash of milk and three sugars, and she managed a small smile between her ragged breaths. 

“Let’s just get to the point. Officially, Mike and I are here to take you into custody. Unofficially, its protective custody and completely off the books is the fact that you’re leading this operation. We’ve got eyes on the surrounding area and you’ve got about thirty minutes until extraction. We’re taking you back to Hereford Mercia, **home**.”

It was almost too much for her sleep deprived brain to take in. Almost. After a moment's pause and several deep breaths to try and calm herself she wiped her eyes and looked at Harry. Nothing but sincerity in his eyes. 

“Harry I ca-” before she could finish her protest Mike interjected, 

“Don’t you dare say you can’t, that’s an order. It’s going to be awkward and it’s going to be problematic but everyone will have to get over it. We don’t have a choice and neither do you.” The stern look on his face was warning enough not to argue the fact he was no longer her superior. 

Mercia sighed and ran her hands through her slick hair, the pony tail doing a poor job of concealing how dirty and tangled it was. Mentally making a checklist of what she needed to do; her go bag had been stashed under the floor in the kitchen-ready since she left rainbow three years ago, she had a small cache of weapons concealed behind her headboard and she needed a shower. She could shower on the jet, they needed to get out of here fast.

Jumping up she ushered Mike and Harry towards the door before grabbing a crowbar concealed under the table and going to town on one corner of the lino. Adrenaline once again fuelling her as she managed to peel it back to reveal a meter square of off coloured concrete. It was mere seconds before she broke through the shell to reveal a large black duffel bag, clothes, cash and multiple forged documents inside. Tossing the bag to the director, she motioned for Mike to follow her across the hall into another room. 

“Move the bed, mate,” Mike wasted no time easily dragging the bed across the room as Mercia began tapping on the various oak panels listening for the hollow thunk of her concealment. Carefully prying the wood away from the wall she began sorting through her arsenal.She contemplated the many knives before deciding on a bowie, she would leave the Magnum behind, instead favouring her GLOCK 19 and thigh holster; not the most inconspicuous load out but it would at least give her a chance should the shit hit the gravel at her feet. 

“Do I want to know?” Mike questioned as she unceremoniously shoved the bowie into her hoodie pocket. For someone who was doing her damned best to make sure she wasn’t trackable it seemed like she was leaving a very big and very much illegal trail. 

Mercia bit her lip and smiled, “Once you’re in, Mike, you’re never really out.” Crossing the hall back to the kitchen she took a long gulp of tea. “How long now?”

“Seven minutes, you sure you have everything? Once we leave, this place is going up.”

Taking one last look around her, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad. She’d grown quite fond of the yellowing wallpaper, the tobacco stained ceilings, the gaudy curtains. The clothes and possessions she could replace but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t pissed at leaving behind the collectibles.

Nodding her head she backed up into the hallway and shoved the armchair and the cabinet to one side before unlocking the door once more and waiting on one side while the two men mirrored her, Harry handing the bag to Mike. The next few minutes were a blur; a phone call, taking the stairs three at a time, alarms ringing, diving into the waiting car and then nothing but the sound of heavy breathing and the hum of the engine. 

Everyone was silent all the way until they boarded the jet at the airfield. When Mike promptly launched the go bag at Mercia and ordered her to shower until the water ran cold. It felt good. The hot water relaxing her perpetually tense muscles, melting away the filth and stress she had been practically wallowing in. Scrubbing her scalp and untangling as much of her hair as she could with her fingers she let out a lewd moan earning a few thumps on the door in disapproval. Laughing it off she quickly finished up and dressed. She dumped her dirty clothes straight in the bin, before making her way to the couch where she laid herself out, legs sprawling over Mike who huffed but said nothing. 

The shit eating grin on her face gave away nothing of the trembling mess she had been just an hour prior.

“I’ve missed you, Baker”  
“I’ve missed you too, Harris”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really bad at titles and summaries, also this hasn't been proofed I'm just balls to the wall posting. 
> 
> I understand this chapter doesn't give much away, but it does introduce one of the central relationships in this story and the next chapter will probably contain a psychological report to give you more background on Mercia. 
> 
> She's an interesting character and I hope you'll like her as much as I think you will.


End file.
